His Scorpion
by Hobbity321
Summary: The past is something that fades into the background as you grow older: especially if you want to forget it. Sometimes, though, it has a way of coming back and biting you straight in the arse. A de-aging story.
1. Somebody That I Used to Know

**Disclaimer: I own none of J.K. Rowling's creations in this story. This is merely for fun, not monetary gain.**

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Molly Weasley loved her grandchildren.

She loved wiping noses and patting heads and making sure that they had plenty to eat. She loved counting heads, red, silver and dark haired alike, and knowing that all of them were hers.

But today, well...

"GRANDMA MOLLY!" Dominique bawled at the top of her lungs, running around wrestling bodies on the floor and jumping over obstacles. Her stuffed owl, Clyde, was clutched in her hands and her strawberry blonde hair was flying behind her. Her pretty princess dress was streaked with mud and dirt. "Grandma Molly, Lily-she-she pushed me!"

Three year old Lily Luna Potter stomped in, all red hair and indignant fury. Color stood high on her cheeks as she folded her arms tightly across her chest, proud as her mother. "I did NOT!"

"Did so!" Dominique insisted loudly, "Clyde and Louis saw too! LOUIS! Come tell grandma-"

"James, get off me!" Albus yelled, squirming furiously.

"Make me!" James Sirius grinned from atop his brother, bouncing a bit.

"But I don't wanna to be a princess," Hugo said plaintively from a stool while Victorie worked on his eyeshadow. "I wanna go outside and play dark wizards and light wizards."

"Sit still, Hugo," his blonde cousin ordered bossily, "Or I'll tell your mum that you're no fun at all-"

"AND THE BROOMSTICK SAID," Rose yelled over all of the noise as she read to her cousin Molly, who faithfully sat listening with her hands folded in her lap, 'WHY, YOU SIR ARE A VERY HEAVY MAN-"

"Grandma!" Domi tugged at the hem of Molly's dress, having soldiered her way across the room. " Grandma, tell Lily-"

"Hugo sit still!"

"Jamie I'm telling daddy-"

"'LITTLE BROOM STICK, I SHALL USE YOU FOR-"

"ENOUGH!" Grandma Weasley roared. The children all stopped in their tracks, wide eyed. They'd never heard her get that loud before.

Molly stood, smoothing her dress and her graying hair then putting her hands on her hips. "That's better. Now: who wants to go to the park for a picnic?" They needed fresh air. Space. A place to run around, far, far away from her.

Nine matching grins faced her. "ME!"

It was not easy, Flooing nine children, three balls, four stuffed animals, two books, crayons, soft blankets, three play wands, two large picnic baskets and her knitting kit (nearly all shrunken of course). But if anyone could manage it, Molly Weasley could.

The park was large, with green grass and charms on the swings and ground to cushion falls somewhat. The sun was shining brightly on the Friday afternoon, and there were few other children out on the playground. It was what appealed to the woman the most; the park was rather secluded, so there were no gawking parents.

James immediately took off with a ball, teasing his brother forgotten. Molly shook her head after him fondly, then turned to the remaining children.

"Now," she said sternly, "You will all behave yourselves or you will not get any dessert during lunch. Don't push the other children around, play fair, and don't kill yourselves. Now go on; I'll call you when the food is ready."

Lily and Dominique ran off together with all of the stuffed animals, upset forgotten.

Two year old Louis sucked his thumb, plastered to Molly's side as she began pulling out her knitting needles, while Rose plopped down and began to read to her cousin again, pushing her glasses higher up in her freckled face.

Victorie took out her portable make up kit and began to finish what she started. Hugo sat miserably without protest; it was safer that way.

"Albus," she said sweetly without looking at him, "you have such nice hair-it'd go perfectly well with my-"

Before she even finished her sentence, Albus was running away. It was a daring move; Victorie normally chased you if you ran from her, but when he looked over his shoulder she was still doing his cousin's lipstick. Poor Hugo. He was most always Victorie's doll.

The dark haired boy slowed, catching his breath and looking around for something to do. Jamie had already found other boys to play with; they were kicking a football to each other. They looked as big and mean as him, though, so Albus stayed away.

He didn't want to play with the girls and he'd heard Rosie read that book a thousand times (it was her favorite). He kept on looking around until something caught his eye.

A little blond boy about his age was sitting in the sand, playing all by himself. It kept on changing colors every time he said one; blue, then purple, then bright green, then silver. It reminded the boy of his older brother, Teddy. He was at Hogwarts.

Albus cautiously walked over. The boy looked up, and Albus saw that the sand matched his eye color. He was wearing a green shirt with buttons and black pants. They looked very clean.

"Hi," Albus said, as his mum told him to when he wanted to make friends. The little boy looked nice. He hoped he wasn't wrong. "My name's Albus Potter. Do you wanna play catch?"

The little boy looked surprised. Then he stood and folded his arms. "You aren't playing a trick on me?"

"No," Albus said, confused. "Uh...am I s'posed to?"

"No," the boy said. "It's just-" he looked around, then came a bit closer. His voice was so quiet that Albus had to lean forward a bit. "Sometimes people 'tend to be my friend, then they're mean like them." He pointed to the group of boys that Jamie was playing with.

Albus frowned. "That's not nice."

"I know." The boy was wide eyed. "That's what I say! But when I tell my mommy she just says to stay away from other kids. So I am. So I can't play with you, can I?"

They thought about this for a minute.

"Well," Albus said slowly, "what if I promise to be your best friend? You can't 'tend to be best friends, and best friends are almost always nice."

"Almost?" The boy asked, tilting his head.

"My sister Lily and my cousin Domi are best friends, but they fight sometimes." Albus nodded. "But they always make up."

"Oh," the little boy said thoughtfully. Then: "I've never had a best friend before."

"Me neither," Albus admitted. "So do you wanna be best friends?"

"Sure," the boy said brightly.

Albus was serious. "You have to promise it'll be forever. 'Cause best friends are important. So you promise...what's your name?"

The little boy puffed up his chest. "My name is Scorpius."

"Wow," Albus marveled, "That's a big name."

"I know." Scorpius looked smug. "I'm named after the scor-pion in the sky. You can only see it at night, though," he said hurriedly, just in case Albus decided to look up.

"My daddy says that I'm named after great men," Albus said. "So I guess we both have cool names, huh?"

"Yeah," Scorpius agreed. He put his hand on his chest. "I pwomise to always be your best friend, Albus."

Albus straightened, looking serious. "And I promise to always be yours, Scorpius."

They stared at each other, then dissolved into giggles.

"Come on," Albus smiled happily at his new best friend. "Let's go and play catch!"

Molly looked up from her knitting, Louis now fast asleep. She cast a Tempus and looked at the time, then put away her needles and yarn. Louis barely stirred as she picked him up and laid him down on the blanket that she had set out. She cast a Mufflato, just in case, then turned to her two other granddaughters.

"Rosie, Molly, dears." She was very fond of her namesake, but she tried not to show it. "Would you please go and get the rest of the family while I set out the picnic?"

"Yes, Grandma," they said in chorus. Rose looked a bit reluctant to part from her book, but she ran off with her cousin.

Grandma Weasley took the picnic baskets and methodically began setting out plates, sippy cups and regular ones with food that wouldn't make too much mess: Crackers and cheese, sandwiches, slices of watermelon with a cooling charm on them and cookies with pumpkin juice. She packed extra of everything, knowing to be prepared for surprises.

Sure enough, Albus came walking up with a blond boy at his side.

He's dressed a bit well for the park, Molly thought as she began unfastening lids. The shock of white blond hair looked familiar, even more so as the pair came closer. Her grandson and the strange boy appeared to be chatting happily, both with flushed cheeks and high, child-like voices.

It did not become fully clear until the face of Draco Malfoy clicked into her mind.

She nearly dropped the tin of crackers.

The elderly woman plastered a smile onto her face, though, as the two boys came to the blanket.

"Grandma Molly," Albus said excitedly, beaming at the woman. "I made a new best friend! This is Scorpius!"

What is Arthur going to say? She thought a bit frantically.

"It's nice to meet you ma'am," the little boy smiled sweetly at her.

Despite her reservations, she smiled back. She'd always had a weakness for polite young people.

"Hello, young man. Where are your parents?" She hadn't seen any Malfoys around: Was the boy alone?

"My mother and fadder are busy," he informed her in an adorable voice, "So my grandma dropped me off here and let Jinna watch me." He pointed to a dark, house elf shape in the shade of a tree. The little thing waved.

James came over then, along with two of the boys that he'd been playing with. One of them, a ruddy dark haired boy, sneered at Scorpius, seemingly not caring that Molly was standing right there. "Who brought the Death Eater?" The other boy laughed loudly.

The smile disappeared from Scorpius's face. His eyes dim, he stepped back a little, away from the party of people. All of the other kids looked wide eyed.

Molly was nearly just a speechless-why the sheer nerve of the boy simply appalled her-

But Albus got there first.

He folded his arms across his chest, straightened proudly (and came up to the boy's collar bone), and narrowed his eyes. "You are a mean person, and my daddy says that mean people are bullies. We don't like bullies here, so you can just go away and leave my Scorpion alone."

His mouth opened and closed, along with the other boy's.

James snorted, then turned to the one who'd opened his mouth. "Well? You heard my brother."

The boys were rapidly turning red.

"But his father's a-"

"That will be enough." Molly had finally gathered herself to keep from cheering. Or laughing at the irony of it all. Albus still had his expression in a stubborn, unforgiving look that she wanted to take a picture of-he looked so much like his father, just before he did something brave. "If you boys cannot play nice, then you will simply have to play elsewhere."

They glared at Scorpius, who was blushing, then stomped off.

"See?" Albus smiled at turned to his best friend. "They're just a bunch of meanies. You don't have to worry-oof!" he was nearly bowled over by a huge hug from the smaller boy.

"Thank you, Alby."

Molly dissolved into a small pile of goo on the grass. And with that goo, any plans that she'd had to warn Albus.

Narcissa Malfoy came to pick Scorpius up.

Molly smoothed her dress and automatically straightened, taking in the woman's silvery-blonde hair and shrewd expression as she watched the boys play.

"Victorie," she said without looking away, "Watch your brother and the other children for a moment."

She stood from her bench, still spry for her age-and proud-and began to make her way to the woman, preparing a speech in her head. Narcissa turned and watched her approach, the elegant woman's expression smooth.

"Hello, Narcissa," Molly said politely, her chin up. She was not about to be intimidated-not the way she had in school, when Narcissa was prettier and smarter than all of the other girls. She was still pretty and smart, but Molly Weasley had done some things in her day that made her just as good as the older woman.

"Good evening," the woman inclined her head. The boys hadn't seen her yet; they were still playing happily with fake wands. Every time one of them shouted anything with purpose, flashes of light shot out of the end. There was no green.

"I'm not going to skip around this, Narcissa," Molly said briskly. "I know your family has a problem with mine, and it'll always be that way. But Albus and Scorpius have hit it off and they'll be absolutely devastated if someone were to, well," she faltered, then soldiered on. "What I'm saying is; don't do anything that will hurt Scorpius."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed slightly, the only sign that she was offended. "Are you trying to tell me how to raise my grandson?"

"I'm saying that this is the next generation. We cannot keep passing on hatred through the generations, it only ends with war. If this," Molly waved a hand, "Goes sour, I want it to be on their terms."

The two women stood in silence, watching as Scorpius shrieked with laughter while Albus danced around.

"This is the first time," Narcissa said slowly in a low voice, "That I've come to pick him up and he's looked this dirty."

And Narcissa smiled.

Albus and Scorpius played together almost every Saturday. They exchanged secrets and discovered new species, played with Albus's sisters sometimes, ran from Jamie and Victorie, who was determined to make Scorpius her model. They talked about Hogwarts and their friends and family and flying.

"I wanna play Quidditch when I grow up," Albus told Scorpius, "Just like my mummy. I love flying with my daddy. I'm not allowed to go on my broom by myself, though, and my grandma has to watch all of the other kids so she can't really watch me."

Scorpius looked thoughtful. "My fadder took me flying, one time, and my mother got really upset so he doesn't anymore." Scorpius looked wistful. "I wanna go again, though."

"Maybe my daddy can take you," Albus suggested.

Grandma Weasley watched the children. Narcissa sat in the shade with her, on a bench, sometimes. Otherwise, she went shopping or ran errands.

Molly wasn't sure if she mentioned the boys' friendship to her family-surely there would have been an uproar if she had.

There was at her house.

Her Ron had turned the color of his hair, a habit that he'd never quite gotten over.

_"Mum," _he said, sounding almost exactly like his son. "You can't just let them-"

"Be children?" Molly asked with her hands on her hips, facing him down. Harry looked strangely calm, while Ginny was watching her son. He was laughing loudly at something that his brother had done, happy.

He sputtered and the rest of the family looked at her like she was insane.

Hermione, however, looked just as thoughtful as Harry. "This could be good," she said. "I used to worry about Scorpius and Albus fighting when they got in school-it could be another Malfoy and Harry situation, after all. But they're friends, instead."

"But Mione-" Ron started.

_"Ronald Weasley." _

And that was that.

The boys grew older; Scorpius turned five, after Albus, and the boy got him a bright green scorpion plush toy that moved around like the real thing. Six, seven and eight went by, then nine.

And then, one day, Narcissa didn't come and pick Scorpius up.

This time, Scorpius saw him first. He looked up from the ground, where he and Albus were drawing something.

Father and son found each other's eyes at the same time and froze.

_They haven't told him, _Molly realized with mounting dread.

Still, she stood and squared her shoulders. This man was the same age as her son; she'd seen him when he was in diapers, still grinning sloppily at people and waving.

Albus had never seen his friend so still before. Even when the bullies came, he was backing up. Now, his face was frozen in a sort of horrified expression that made Albus's gut twist.

"What?" He asked anxiously, grabbing one of his shoulders and looking where Scorpius was.

He stopped as well.

Oh.

Draco Malfoy looked just as shocked as his son. He looked from the hand on Scorpius's shoulder to the boy attached to it.

The shocked expression slowly but steadily became one of anger. He stomped over to them, past Albus's grandmother, who looked like she was about to come over them herself, and straight to his son.

He stopped. Up close, Albus could see that his nostrils were flaring, his shoulders tense like iron.

Scorpius had once admitted that he was kind of scared of his father.

"Why?" Albus had asked, disbelieving. He couldn't imagine being scared of his father-scared of punishments, like getting his broom taken away, sure, but actually scared of the man; never.

"When he's angry," Scorpius said quietly, "he looks like he could just...hate me. He's never hit me or anything, but I'm scared of disappointing him."

Albus could see what his best friend meant. The man looked like a cobra, ready to strike.

He was older, now. He understood some things; why the boys in the park had called Scorpius what they did, why his Uncle Ron looked at him weirdly sometimes. Why it was odd for him to consider the young Malfoy his very best friend. But he didn't care, and neither did his parents or siblings, and that was all that mattered.

At least, to him.

"Your grandmother," Mr. Malfoy said through barely moving lips, "is in St. Mungos after having fallen down the stairs at the manor."

Scorpius said nothing, but Albus, with his steel-like grip on his arm, felt him tense all over. He had to hurting the blond boy, but he couldn't bear to let go. Scorpius made no complaint.

"She insisted that the house elves could take you home, that I did not need to pick you up. I see why now." His eyes roved over Albus, and the boy resisted the urge to shrink back. "What have you to say for yourself?"

"I-" Scorpius's voice came out in a whisper. Albus flinched-Scorpius only acted like that when he was about to run. Or cry. Neither option seemed to be a good idea in front of his father.

"Mr. Malfoy," Grandma Weasley said in the tone that meant someone was in trouble.

Mr. Malfoy's shoulders became even tenser, if possible. He slowly turned, facing Albus's grandmother.

Sure enough, the woman looked ready to put the man in time out. Her hands were on her hips, feet planted firmly apart on the ground.

"Mrs. Weasley," Mr. Malfoy frowned. "How very nice to see you." He said this so flatly that Albus could not even pretend that he meant it. "I assume that you have something to say about my parenting."

Molly bristled at his tone. "As a matter of fact, I do. Your son and my grandson have been playing together for years-he's practically family. I see no reason why this should change."

"Is that so?" He raised a condescending eyebrow, as if her words were nothing. "Well, I will take that into consideration. But I must remind you, Mrs. Weasley; Scorpius is, in fact, _my _son. _Practically like family_-"he spat this-"or not, I am his father, and I will do what's best for him." He turned briskly on his heel, facing his pale son. "Come, Scorpius."

Scorpius looked at Albus; the dark haired boy tried to beg him, with his eyes, not to go. "Father-"

_"Now,_ Scorpius." Draco said in a low, dangerous tone.

Scorpius lowered his head. Stepped away, until Albus's hand fell from his arm.

"Yes, father."

Scorpius didn't come the next weekend. Or the weekend after that, or after that.

After the fifth Saturday, Albus gave up and finally sobbed at the unfairness of it all. His father held him close and smoothed his hair and let him cry it all out, while Ginny called up Astoria and got into a screaming match via Floo.

James scowled the next morning, at the quiet breakfast. "Mr. Malfoy's a real arsehole."

Harry choked on his bacon. Lily snorted into her tea, while Ginny whirled around, completely shocked.

_"James Sirius Potter!" _

"It's true!" He protested. _"And_ he's balding already-"

For the first time in five weeks, Albus laughed.

Albus's stomach knotted and unknotted as he slowly walked down the carriages, looking into compartments under the ruse that he was looking for somewhere to sit. In truth, he'd already gotten one with Rosie and some of his other adopted family.

He shut the compartment full of giggles that he'd just opened-girls were _so_ weird, he'd never understand them-

And suddenly, Scorpius was there.

His hair was longer, was the first thing that Albus noticed. It was long enough for him to tie it back into a small ponytail, some thick strands falling into his face. His eyes were bright with laughter and he was smirking in a way that Albus had never seen before.

Something flashed in his eyes as he saw Albus-something that the dark haired boy thought he recognized from the boy that had been taken away from the park all those years ago.

And then it was gone, replaced with an even cockier smirk. Scorpius shut his compartment door, leaning against it to look Albus up and down. "Well. Look what the kneazle dragged in."

His voice had even changed. It was a little deeper, of course, and had lost it's child-like innocence, but there was a drawl to it, something that said, _I'm better than you._

Albus hated it the moment it hit his ears. He frowned and hesitantly stepped closer. This was the same boy, he was sure. And yet, he was totally different. "Scorpius? Scorpion? It's me, Albus. Do you remember me?" When the blond didn't answer, he continued, "We used to be best friends, before your father..."

"Saved me from myself? Yes, I remember." He straightened from his position on the door.

Albus's jaw hung ajar. "Scorpius, what-?"

"Whatever delusions you had about us becoming friends again," the blond interruppted coldly, "They're just that-delusions. My father was right to do what he did. You're a Potter, with all of-" he gestured to Albus's hair- "that, and I'm a Malfoy. I'm not supposed to be fraternizing with..."

Albus could scarcely believe his ears. As Scorpius continued talking, though, he found himself getting angrier and angrier. He clenched his fists at his sides.

"All of that is a load of _crap!" _

Scorpius folded his arms across his chest. "It's what my father and his father says, so-"

"Your father," Albus said, nearly shaking with fury and indignation, "and your grandfather can just go and _screw _themselves."

"Don't you _talk_ about my-"

"I can and I _will,_" Albus hissed. "They've brain washed you, and you actually believe that bull crap that they're spewing-"

Scorpius's gray eyes narrowed into slits. "It's better than the goody-goody Gryffindor 'Save the world' crap that _your _family spits at people all the time-"

_"Don't you dare _go there Scorpius, because _my _family aren't the people that drag boys away and beat them because of the people that they hang out with-"

"Your family are a bunch of red haired savior-types with too little money and too much mouth-"

He wasn't sure which one of them threw the first punch, but then they were fighting on the train and Victorie was spelling them apart and his family and the Slytherins on the train were hissing at each other.

"What happened?" Rose kept on asking anxiously, gripping his arm as someone got ice for his eye.

But Albus was crying in a mixture of pain and frustration and sadness, and did not answer.

As the years passed, the boys got into a countless amount of skirmishes, pranks, shouting matches, and occasional fist fights.

They had parental meetings where Harry looked disappointed and Draco looked smug, detentions, took house points, and did everything possible to try and stop the boys from fighting. It was no use though; the moment they were in the same room, tension mounted.

The ones who remembered their childhood years could not understand it. They never mentioned it though; the one time Rose had made the mistake of trying to make a point through it, Albus completely exploded. So no one at school knew about their past friendship.

The most vicious of fights happened at the end of sixth year.

It was still early. Albus had been walking to breakfast with his girlfriend of a six months, Allison .

The girl was extremely beautiful; she had long, waist length sheer black hair that Albus loved to run his fingers though, bright blue eyes and an easy smile. She was in Hufflepuff, and Albus's family loved her.

He wasn't sure if he did just yet, but he really, really liked her. Still: he hadn't told her about Scorpius yet, and he figured that meant something.

Rose was on his other side, verbally going through Herbology review for the morning. Professor Longbottom loved to spring tests on you when you least expected it. (Albus loved his godfather, but sometimes he wanted to kill him.) He was nodding along to her count when Scorpius Malfoy appeared, Mikael Zabini and Vincent Goyle flanking his sides.

Vincent was quiet, with his father's size and agressive stare. He merely had to fold his huge arms for people to turn and start running in the opposite direction. He rarely got into Malfoy's fights however, preferring to watch. Albus had never spoken to the boy in his life, but he imagined that he wouldn't have much to say.

Mikael was a lithe boy with sharp, defined features. He was tall, with long brown limbs and a graceful stride. Girls all over the school fancied him, though Albus could hardly understand why; the boy looked like an elf.

Scorpius had the hair at the back of his head cut, so it was longer in the front while it was short in the back. He always appeared at breakfast with clothes pressed, never with dark circles or bed head. Girls seemed to like him, too-there was always some Hufflepuff crying at breakfast, begging him to stay. If Albus weren't so disgusted, he'd feel sorry for them.

He smirked. Said something to Mikael, who glanced at Allie and laughed loudly enough for it to echo down the hall.

Even though he knew it was all done especially for his benefit, Albus's blood boiled.

Rose stopped reciting Latin herbs. "Albus, leave it."

"Please?" Allison at him with huge, anxious blue eyes. "For me?"

He looked between the two girls, then let out a breath between his teeth. "Fine. But only because-"

"Hey, Allie!" Scorpius yelled. "How's that lip?"

Allison blushed crimson. That was it-Albus whirled around.

"Just what do you think you're talking about, Malfoy?"

"Albus," Allison tugged his arm.

The blond smirked lazily. "Nothing. Just a rumor going around in the dungeons, that's all."

Albus rolled his eyes. As if he wanted to hear it. He was a bit curious, though; Allison had busted her lip the day before and couldn't heal it, so he'd had to. When he'd asked, she'd scowled. "First years."

"Ah," he'd understandingly.

Now, though, Allison was tugging him away and Malfoy looked _so damn smug-_

Rose looked cautious. "Al, maybe we should just go."

"Alright, alright, I'm coming." He turned away.

"You don't want to hear about Tracey, though?" Malfoy called.

"No thanks," Albus said without looking back.

"Funny: I'd want to know about the guy who's shagging my girlfriend."

Albus, Rose and Allison stopped.

"I walked in on them at a Slytherin party. She was so surprised to be caught that she slammed her mouth against Tracey's head." His words were practically _dripping _with satisfaction. "She _begged _me not to tell anyone. So of course, I decided to be a good enemy and let you know." He snickered.

Albus turned, feeling the familiar fury rise in him. Still, his voice was calm when he addressed the blond boy.

"I don't listen to cowards and liars Malfoy; I'm afraid that you'll have to try something else." But he looked at Allison anyway.

His girlfriend was pale. Albus felt his stomach drop into his shoes.

"Allison?" He stepped away from her. "Allie?"

She whirled around and ran away. That was all the answer the Gryffindor needed.

Rose touched his arm, then glared at Scorpius. "You are a _bastard, _Scorpius Malfoy_." _She ran off after Allison.

Albus couldn't say anything. He was still in shock.

_Allison had cheated on him? And she wasn't going to tell him? And Scorpius Malfoy, of all bloody people, caught them? _

"I think you've broken him, Malfoy," Mikael laughed, and Vincent chortled along with him.

"Nah," Scorpius said. He swaggered down the steps, walking until he was nearly toe to toe with Albus. He was almost the exact same as the height, just a fraction of an inch smaller.

He lifted a hand, then, without warning, lightly slapped Albus across the face.

Albus snapped. That was the only way to describe it; all of his emotions came pouring out him at once, and because Scorpius was at the center of it all he was the one who took the brunt.

So he hit him. And hit him, and Scorpius was hitting back, anywhere possible and Albus realized, dimly, that they really needed to stop this.

Before that thought could register, though, someone was hauling him back by the scruff of his neck and Scorpius was being dragged away too, by the new potions professor.

"This," Neville panted, giving Albus a good shake, "has got to stop."

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**So! This is my first Harry Potter fanfic, and it came to me while I had no internet. S it might be a little crazy. Maybe. This IS slash, don't like don't read! No flames, please! Rate and Review :)**

**- Hobbity  
**


	2. Little Malfoy

A/N: So chapter two of this story! _Finally, _I know, I've just been a bit busy :). Thank you Thronsedge, kc1997kc, and AFLlover for reviewing! Follow their example people! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own any of J.K. Rowling's fab characters.

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The beginning of their Albus's seventh year was quiet, compared to all of the other years.

Not for lack of trying on Malfoy's part, of course. He'd sniped, snarked, thrown random things into Albus's cauldron, thrown hexes, spread rumors, and basically did everything that he could to try and make the Gryffindor murderous.

And Albus grit his teeth, pushed his indignance away, and ignored him.

Malfoy simply could not stand it, he could tell. It made him look like a fool, insulting someone who treated him less like an enemy and more like lint on their robes. It was the only thing that made Albus's forced silence a bit more bearable.

After their last fight, he and Malfoy had been suspended for the rest of the year. Albus'd had to finish up the rest of his schoolwork at home.

It was safe to say that his parents had not been pleased.

Even since the Gryffindor could remember, his father had always been on his side. When he and his brother had decided that, in order to look cool, they'd give each other black eyes; when he wanted to fly his broom on his own, even though he wasn't allowed to yet, and got stuck in a tree-even when Albus decided that the son of a Death Eater, and his father's old enemy, was to be his best friend.

Then, though, Harry had only watched as Ginny tore her son to metaphorical strips.

Like her mother, Ginerva Weasley had the uncanny ability to yell at you until you felt like the worst person in the world. By the time she was finished taking Albus's broom, establishing limited connection to his friends, and telling him off for fighting over some stupid, Hufflepuff bint (which was not what she'd been calling her when Allison brought green bean casserole over to his house for dinner), he felt horrible.

She finished her grand speech by threatening to homeschool him if he couldn't control his temper. And when he'd looked at his father for support, the auror had only nodded.

"It's time for you to grow up, Albus," he said quietly. "I know it's hard, but you are of age. It's time to act like it."

And that, despite all of his mum's words and threats, was what got to him the most.

So he ignored Malfoy, and all of his attempts at enraging him. The blond only seemed to get more and more frustrated. Apparently, his father hadn't given him the it's time to put away childish things speech.

Albus hissed in frustration as he pried his sopping homework apart. Drying charms only went so far-he was probably going to have to copy his ruined homework all over again.

Unfortunately, he didn't have time-there was only five minutes until Potions and Professor Greengrass was not known to be a very forgiving woman. The fact that he and Malfoy had wreaked endless amounts of havoc in her class only served to support the theory that the woman would not be very forgiving. Never mind that he was trying but her bloody prick of a nephew was making life impossible.

Rosie tapped his papers with her wand and muttered a spell, and all of the smudged words abruptly went into his short, spiky handwriting again. The Gryffindor looked at his cousin gratefully. "You're the best, Rose."

She rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was pleased. "Let's get moving before we're late to class."

They made it-just barely, but they made it. Albus breathed a sigh of relief as he walked over to his seat and slumped into a chair beside Connor Finnegan, his cousin sitting beside him. Malfoy, Zabini, and Goyle were two rows in front of them, smirking about something.

Despite being the son of Harry Potter and sharing some of his traits, Albus was surprisingly adept at Potions. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his life, and he knew that he enjoyed it, so he took the Advanced Potions class. The fact that Malfoy had inherited his father's skills at the craft only made competetion between them greater.

Professor Greengrass surveyed the class with intelligent green eyes, never missing anything. Her deep auburn hair was pulled back into a loose bun, no curls escaping. She wore traditional black robes and in her hands, she held a long stick that she used for pointing and scaring the crap out of people.

"Today," she said in a clear, sharp voice that cut like crystal, "we will be brewing an advanced Healing Potion."

Everyone in the class sat up. Despite its common use, the Draught of Healing was a demanding potion, requiring specific ingredients at precise times. It had been invented by Severus Snape and perfected only after the war-by Draco Malfoy, of all people. Albus looked at Scorpius and, of course, saw a proud smirk covering the arrogant blond's face.

She lectured at first, while Albus took furious notes. Beside him, Rosie's quill was flying, catching every single word that came out of the Slytherin Head's mouth.

Finally, she split them into pairs. Rosie went with Connor, who Albus was pretty sure had a crush on his cousin. He was always fumbling things around her.

Albus was paired with Kaylen Boot, a quiet, pretty Gryffindor that no one Hogwarts messed with. She was simply too...nice. Albus had thought about asking her out, once, but then decided that she was better as a friend.

Malfoy smirked at him as he passed to move over to Jackson Nott. Albus simply smirked back: Malfoy didn't know that he'd fixed his homework and thought he was going to get a thrashing at the end of class.

As he set his things down in the seat next to Kaylen, Albus smiled at the girl. "Do you want me to go and get the ingredients, or would you rather I set up the caludron?" It had to be pre-heated to reach an exact temperature.

"I'll get the ingredients," she stood and walked to the back, where some students already were.

When she returned, the cauldron was heated and ready. Albus pulled out his wand cast a Shield Charm around their cauldron.

"In case Malfoy gets any ideas," he told his partner.

The girl nodded, smiling ruefully. "Good idea."

They worked in companionable silence after that, only speaking when necessary. Kaylen sliced the Mandrake Root and Albus had the honor of crushing the three Scarab beetles, scraping them into the mixture then stirring twenty times clockwise and five times counter-clockwise. Then, the mixture had to sit for five minutes, or until it turned a light lavendar color.

During these five minutes, the dark haired Gryffindor surveyed the class. Connor was watching his cousin with a bright red face. Albus highly doubted that it was from the fumes. Most of the students were still working, the only one being on their five minute waiting period-

Albus's eyes narrowed as he took in the Slytherin's staring. For once, the boy's mouth was devoid of any smirk now-he was simply watching. Emerald met mercury and refused to let go.

He'd stared into Malfoy's eyes countless time, of course. When they were hissing at each other, spewing words of hate. They were always dark when they looked at Albus. Today, though, they were like a calm gray sky, mist in the morning. An unfamiliar sensation rose in Albus's stomach.

It ended, suddenly, when Nott nudged him and he snapped his head away to glare at the boy. Albus turned to his own partner to see her stirring in the ground Chizpurfle fang slowly, turning the potion a bright orange.

"Five minutes have passed?" He asked, surprised.

Kaylen hummed, smiling slightly. "You were otherwise occupied, so I took it upon myself to do it."

Albus, for reasons that he did not understand, flushed furiously. "I was just..."

"Staring at Malfoy?" She asked, starting to stir in the other direction. Her dark brown hair was tied back, to keep it out of the potion. "I saw."

A hot denial was on the tip of his tongue when Kaylen looked up, smiling angelically. "Hand me the frog brains, will you?"

Scowlig at the usually-sweet girl, he picked up the mushy, gray things and obediently handed them to her. Just because Kaylen had just slightly lost her mind didn't mean that he wanted to fail for the day.

They completed the potion quietly. Albus stood as Kaylen ladled the potion into a vial for the teacher, putting a stopper onto it then handing it to the dark haired boy. He collected his essay, slightly wrinkled from the earlier drying, and Kaylen's and walkd up with the potion in his other hand.

Professor Greengrass stood from her seat as he approached. Out of the corner of his eye, Al noticed a certain Slytherin approaching the desk as well. Despite the childishness of it, Albus felt a bit of satisfaction. He'd finished his potion and brought it up before the royal brat.

He handed the vial to the woman and turned to leave, but her voice stopped him. "Just a moment, Mr. Potter."

Albus stopped, turning to look at her questioningly. Malfoy smirked as he came to a stop, turning in his own essays. The Gryffindor glared, but ignored him.

"Is there a problem, professor?" he asked carefully. One could never know with Professor Greengrass.

"I simply wish for a demostration of the potion," she smiled, a slow, Slytherin smile that sent a chill down Albus's back. "You both are, of course, some of my more competent students, so I trust that your potions are fit for such a demonstration. Especially you, Mr. Malfoy," she added to her nephew, whom she treated like anyone else in the class.

This wasn't unusual, but Albus still blanched a little. He had every confidence in his and Kaylen's potion skill, but in order for them to show the results, they'd have to harm themselves first.

Nevertheless, the Gryffindor didn't hesitate to grab the small knife that was offered to him. Malfoy puffed out his chest and did the same, albeit reluctantly.

Albus cut quickly across his forearm, bringing forth a sizable amount of blood. Malfoy did the same, but a bit lower, and a bit more hesitantly.

The Gryffindor smirked, mindful of the eyes of the entire class. "Scared, Malfoy?"

The blond sneered. "Not on your miserable life, Potter."

And he took his vial from Professor Greengrass, then downed the deep blue potion. Albus narrowed his eyes and did the same.

There was a light, tingling sensation where he'd been cut, one that he recognized from the aftermath of countless fights with the boy in front of him. He watched as the wound slowly and steadily began to close, only leaving a faint pink mark with streams of blood behind. He glanced at Malfoy, expecting to see the same-even if the guy was a prat, he was still good and Potions.

Much to his bemusement though, the blond was still bleeding quite profusely. In fact, he looked sort of pale.

"Professor," he said in a voice that was more than a groan. "I-"

And then Malfoy disappeared. His robes became a puddle on the floor.

Albus stared at them with something akin to horror, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. It felt almost like he was having a panic attack.

He didn't understand his reaction, why the world suddenly seemed frozen and his heart seemed to have stopped. He didn't understand it, but the feeling was there, the Oh my God, Scorpius-

And something in the bundle moved. The Gryffindor stepped back as the clothes began shifting, almost as if something was struggling to get out. Swallowing his courage with a glance at their potions teacher, who looked oddly thoughtful, he pulled back the clothes.

Wide, bright gray eyes stared up at him, surrounded by tousled white blonde hair. The little boy was so familiar it was almost like a slap in the face, but this four year old surely couldn't be-it just couldn't-

"Alby?" Four year old Scorpius Malfoy asked in a tiny, shy voice.

Albus blinked rapidly, aware of the total silence of the classroom. All eyes were on the front of the classroom. He practically hear minds working:

Did Scorpius Malfoy just call Albus Potter by a nickname? What the hell? Isn't this juicy!

"Alby," Malfoy repeated, this time in a sure, wondering voice. He stood, a bit unsteadily, and stretched his arms up, bare as the day he was born.

Despite his shock, that got through to him. All of the facts slid into place with a dull thud.

Scorpius Malfoy had somehow been de-aged.

He remembered Albus.

And now he wanted him to pick him up, for everything to go back to then-

Albus shook his head, hard. "No, kid. Not going to happen." And it wasn't. No matter how adorable Scorpius looked, bringing back unwanted, carefully sealed memories, he was not going to do this again. Especially not after all of the crap that Malfoy had put him through these past few years. Zabini or someone could take him.

To his horror, though, Scorpius's bottom lip began to tremble, those eyes filling.

He is not going to-

Tears spilled over onto chubby cheeks. "Did I do some'tin wong Alby? I dint mean to," he cried, his words slurring through his tears.

Natural instinct from baby sitting younger cousins, along with a sense of being the most horrible wizard alive had Albus crossing the space and scooping the boy up easily and wrapping him in his arms. Scorpius tucked his blond hair into his shoulder, shaking. Soft hairs tickled Albus's chin.

He patted his bare back, making soft shushing noises.

Professor Greengrasss snapped out of it.

"Potter," she said in a fairly menacing voices. "Give me my nephew immediately."

Not really liking the look on her face, Albus gently took Scorpius and tried to give him to his aunt.

But the boy wouldn't budge, gripping the Gryffindor to the point of strangling him.

"He won't let go, ma'am." he told her feebly.

She walked behind him, facing Scopius. From where Albus could barely see, her expression became almost kind. "Scorpius?"

Albus felt Scorpius bring his head up. He sniffed loudly. "Auntie Daphhy?"

Some girls in the classroom, which was still deathly silent, cooed.

Professor Greengrass actually smiled a bit. "Yes, it's me. Would you kindly release Potter so I can take you to the infirmary?"

Albus couldn't see him, but he knew that Scorpius must have had that pleading expression on his face. "Can I stay with Albus? Please, Aunt Dapphy?"

The Slytherin Head's eyes narrowed for a moment, then suddenly cleared. "Oh. Of course. Potter." Albus turned to face his teacher. "Go to the infirmary-I will meet you there with the headmaster." She gave him a look that could chill Voldemort, spelling a pass and handing to him. "Do not do anything stupid."

The Gryffindor swallowed hard. "Got it."

Without looking at anyone in the class, he turned and left, Scorpius still clinging to his neck.

They had hardly left the classroom when Scorpius spoke. "Alby?"

"Yes?" Albus asked in a controlled voice. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh at the situation, blow something up, or just sit somewhere and cry.

Apparently, Scorpius took the neutral voice as encouragement.

"Wha's going on? Where aw we? Why're you all big and I'm still little?"

Albus paused. "How about we just go to the infirmary and get you checked out, then I'll answer all of your questions?" And mine, Albus thought, mentally going over ways that Malfoy could have botched up his potion to cause...this. "Okay?"

The small Malfoy sighed, tucking his head in the crook of Albus's neck again. "'Kay."


End file.
